


There Was A Young Auror From Essex

by Rosie_Rues



Series: The Rising Storm [32]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1995, Community: dogdaysofsummer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-03
Updated: 2006-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:19:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_Rues/pseuds/Rosie_Rues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recruiting for the Order, July 1995</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Was A Young Auror From Essex

Remus was sitting in the Tonkses’ back garden in Stansted Montfichet. A plane was passing overhead, and they’d stopped talking for a moment, the roar drowning them out. Padfoot had jumped to his feet and was barking at it gleefully.

“Is your dog scared of planes, Mr Lupin?” Nymphadora asked, as soon as the din died away.

Remus laughed as Padfoot flopped down again, tail thumping against the dry grass. “Rather the opposite, I’m afraid. He adores anything with an engine.”

“Dog after my own heart,” she said, grinning, and slipped Padfoot another piece of shortbread.

Remus had never been able to work out how Sirius could get such a human smirk on a canine face.

“The problem is, Remus,” Ted said, sounding tired, “that our original objections still stand. We don’t doubt your word, or the boy’s, but now, more than ever, we need to work with the Ministry. Vigilantism is not the answer.”

“It was last time,” Remus snapped, and Padfoot sat up and glared at Ted.

“We don’t know that,” Andromeda said firmly. “We can’t tell what would have happened if your Order had worked with the Ministry. I’m sorry, Remus, but we can’t.”

“The Ministry has changed,” Remus pointed out. “And not for the better. If they won’t admit that he’s back, how can they oppose him.”

Andromeda snorted. “Well, we can certainly do something about that. Cornelius Fudge does not have a stranglehold on the Ministry, whatever he may think. The media, yes, and that’s where you’re going to run into problems, Remus. The papers were, for the most part, behind you last time. It’s very clear they won’t be now.”

“All the more reason why we need your help,” Remus insisted, frustrated.

“Listen to him, Mum,” Nymphadora said, leaning forward. “You can’t just sit here.”

Andromeda gave her a quelling look. Remus had been terrified of that look when he was a lowly firstie and she was Head Girl. It hadn’t lost any of its force, though there were a few threads of grey in her hair now, and lines around her eyes.

“I have no intention of sitting this one out, child.”

“But we won’t break the law,” Ted said. “And we won’t join the Order. I’m sorry, Remus, but we lost too much last time.”

Padfoot growled at that, and Remus said, “You weren’t the only ones.”

“No,” Ted said bluntly, “We weren’t, and I’ve no wish to remind you of your pain, Remus, but you won’t change our minds that way.”

“Then what will work?” Remus demanded. He’d thought they might listen this time.

“Nothing,” Andromeda said. “We’ll do everything we can within the Ministry, but no more.”

Remus sighed. The more he argued, the less they’d move. Very well. “What can you do?”

She pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the garden table. “Fudge has a few enemies, and this recent alliance with Dolores Umbridge has earnt him more. I’ve not got enough influence to go for Minister myself, not quite, but I can certainly muster my supporters behind one of his main rivals. Hmm.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Nymphadora muttered, and Ted laughed.

Remus sighed, and helped himself to more strawberries. It would help, of course, but Voldemort was out there, biding his time, and it would not be long before the killings started in earnest. He’d liked Cedric, who had been a pleasure to teach, and he dreaded the inevitable deaths of more of his pupils. The sooner they acted, the less would die.

Padfoot’s head thumped down on his thigh, staring up at him. Remus ruffled the fur on his head and smiled down at him. He wondered where they’d end up tonight. He hadn’t seen his Edinburgh flat since they set off a week ago. Some of the people they’d approached had put them up for the night, but they’d spent a few nights under hedgerows. Sirius didn’t seem to mind. He would just shove his face into the crook of Remus’ neck and clench his fists in his shirt and pass out. Remus, however, found it hard to sleep on the rough ground, and woke up stiff and grumpy each morning.

It could be worse, though. Would be worse, if Dolores Umbridge’s star continued to rise.

Padfoot wandered over to Andromeda’s side, gazing up at her pleadingly. She patted him absently, and murmured, “How reliable is Scrimgeour, Ted?”

“Power-hungry,” Ted said with a shrug.

“Aren’t they all? What’s your dog called, Remus?”

“Er,” Remus said. They knew Padfoot had been Sirius’ nickname. “Snuffles.”

Sirius gave him a reproachful look and went back to charming his cousin.

“He’s a lovely dog,” Ted said, stretching out so his deckchair creaked in protest. “Where did you find him?”

“He found me. Turned up on the doorstep one day half-starved and filthy. He’s good company.”

“I’m glad,” Andromeda said. “I worry about you being all alone, Remus.”

 _I’m not,_ he thought, willing her to change her mind. _But I can’t tell you that unless you’re in. Please. Sirius needs some family._

“He’ll eat me out of house and home, though,” he said lightly.

“I can see that,” Ted said, eyeing his daughter, and the over-length arm that was creeping round the back of Andromeda’s chair recoiled, along with its load of biscuits.

He lingered there until evening, because he couldn’t bear to drag Sirius away too soon, not after all these years. He liked these two himself, but they’d been the only family Sirius had, and Remus knew he missed them.

It was quite a shock to see young Nym grown up, too, he mused. He hadn’t recognised her when she came to the door with purple hair and a Reading Festival t-shirt that had seen better days.

She’d tried, all afternoon, to bring the conversation back round to the war, but Ted and Andromeda had resisted. Remus, who was quite happy to pretend for an afternoon that the world was safe, had let them.

It was Padfoot who finally got restless, and they set out as the sun washed the trees and rooftops of the small town golden. Nymphadora cast him a meaningful glance as he left, so he didn’t hurry as they wandered out of town and along the lane towards Ugley Green. The Essex fields rolled away from the road, the low hills curving softly towards the horizon, the crops caught between green and gold.

It had been in such a field, in the swaying shadow of newly unfurled barley, that Sirius had kissed him for the first time in fourteen years, a quick, sharp-toothed press of lips. He’d drawn back immediately, saying, _You didn’t have to come._

Remus had ignored that, and pressed him gently down to the dark earth.

Padfoot was whining with impatience. Remus said, rolling his eyes, “Don’t change back. I think we’re about to have company.”

He got a look which clearly meant, _Just because I’m currently a dog, doesn’t mean I’m stupid._

Then, as he’d expected, there was the sound of running feet slapping on the road behind them. Remus turned round to see Nymphadora Tonks dashing up the lane behind them. She called, “Mr Lupin! Wait!”

Remus waved to show he’d heard.

Her legs suddenly got a lot shorter and she slowed to a jog, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

“Too bloody hot to run,” she gasped.

“Quite,” Remus said. “Watch your shoelaces!”

But one had already tangled under her left foot, and she pitched forward.

Remus caught her and set her back on her feet as she spluttered with embarrassment. Then she rocked back on her heels, and said, “Dad’s wrong, isn’t he? I know he is. Let me help, please, Mr Lupin.”

“My name is Remus, Nymphadora,” he said, pondering. She was very young, but there were so few of them, and there was no denying she’d be useful.

She winced. “Tonks. Everyone calls me Tonks. I can help, really – help a lot. I’m not just a metamorphagus – I’m an Auror, y’know. Did pretty well at some of my exams.”

His respect for her went up a notch. All the same he did some quick mental arithmetic. “Bloody _hell_ , I’m old.”

“Oh, you’re not!” she blurted out and blushed.

 _Oh, bugger,_ Remus thought, and Padfoot made a wuffing noise that he _knew_ was a laugh.

“Do you understand the risks?” he asked wearily. “It must be kept secret, or you’ll endanger everyone around you.”

“Like Batman. Fair play.” Then she added, her face narrowing slightly. “I was in Slytherin, Remus. I was lucky – it was far enough after the end of the war that people spoke to me, even though I’m as halfblood as it gets. Even then, most of my classmates would toast the lord over the water at each meal. They’ll come after people like us, anyway. If I can slow them down, I will.”

Remus looked at Padfoot who nodded eagerly.

“Is he your familiar?” Tonks asked.

 _Very familiar indeed,_ Remus thought and smiled at her. “I’ll need to talk to some people. You’ll be contacted.”

“Wicked,” she said, and grinned. “Cheers, Remus.” Then she turned and raced back down the road, legs stretching again.

“I feel old,” Remus said as she disappeared round the bend. “Do you feel old?”

There was a rush of displaced air, and Sirius said hoarsely, “I refuse, on a matter of principle, to ever get old.”

“Better than the alternative,” Remus said dryly, and dug out his list of names. “Right, Dedalus Diggle next. Feel like a trip to Rochester?”

“Where are we?” Sirius asked, looking around carefully. He’d obviously fallen out of the conversation again.

“Essex,” Remus said gently.

“Mmm,” Sirius said, and smiled thoughtfully. The sunlight washed over him, making even his hollow cheeks and the lines on his face seem golden. Remus squashed down giddy, overblown thoughts about war-worn angels and fallen stars, and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Did we ever have sex in Essex?” Sirius asked.

Remus laughed before he could help it. Then he realised that this was yet another of the things Sirius had not forgotten, but had taken from him.

“Don’t think so,” he said. “There was the Harwich to Hamburg ferry, but I’m sure we were under way before you’d got my clothes off.”

Sirius grinned, and slid an arm around his waist. “You know what I think, Moony?”

“I can guess,” Remus said, and leant against him.

“It’s terribly late to be paying calls,” Sirius rasped in his ear. “And there’s a field right there.”

“Seems a shame to waste it,” Remus said, and let Sirius drag him off the road.


End file.
